The Sorcerer's Slave
by nantasyland
Summary: Takes place during Season 4, after Episode 2, "The Darkest Hour – Part 2." Arthur is taken by slave traders and placed under an evil spell by a powerful sorcerer to control his mind. Merlin must find him to buy him and save him.
1. Chapter 1

The Sorcerer's Slave

Chapter 1

"But Arthur, why can't I go with you?"

"I've told you, Merlin, Lord Agravaine and I believe that a trip by the Prince Regent to the Northern Borders with his knights, and only his knights, would demonstrate our strength and quell the unrest. If I brought a servant with me, it would make me look soft." Arthur's answer is spoken with exaggerated patience. Merlin is dogging his footsteps as he walks across the courtyard toward King Bruta's statue at the bottom of the great staircase where grooms are holding the horses for Arthur and his knights to mount.

The sun was just rising and cast long shadows across the ground. Merlin squints into it as he trails just behind Arthur. "But you might need my help."

Arthur stops mid-stride and turns to look at Merlin. "Help. What possible help could you provide?"

"Well . . . erm, to protect you, like I always do," Merlin says, coming to a halt beside the Prince. Arthur looks at him with impatient disbelief. "You need me. Please take me with you."

"Stop whining, Merlin."

"I'm not whining. I don't whine," Merlin answers indignantly as Arthur steps away to reach the stairs, reaching for the reins of a horse held by one of the grooms. "Why aren't you riding Llamri?" he asks, surprised to see Arthur ready to mount a large black stallion.

"My uncle has offered me his horse for the trip. He thought a larger horse would have greater stamina for the journey. Check my pack, will you?" Arthur easily vaults into the saddle.

"Who is carrying the food for the trip?" Merlin asks as he secures Arthur's pack and bedroll behind him.

"Sir Lamorak. And yes, there's enough. Stop fussing. You're still not going. I'm ordering you to stay here in Camelot." He looks down at Merlin's upturned face from his seat on the black horse.

"But Arthur . . "

Arthur holds up his hand to stop Merlin's protests. "For once, Merlin, would you just do as your told? You are not to leave Camelot," he says with finality, pointing a finger in warning. Merlin presses his lips together in frustration.

Agravaine has walked up to see Arthur off and is waiting to approach, listening to Arthur's final admonishments to Merlin. He edges Merlin aside as he reaches up to hand Arthur a map of the route to the Northern Borders, unrolling it and pointing out where Arthur should stop on his journey.

Arthur puts the map in his saddlebag and clasps Agravaine's arm in farewell. "Thank you, Uncle."

Arthur guides his horse at an easy trot through the small group of three knights waiting for him, and raises his arm to signal them to follow him. Once they are through the northern gate of the town, they increase their speed to a gallop heading out the main road to make their way north. Merlin stands and watches them go before he turns to head to the portico for the closest entrance to Gaius's chambers.

Merlin huffs with annoyance, "_the_ _Northern Borders again. Really_?" as he climbs the stairs to the physician's chambers, thinking about Arthur's ready acceptance of and respect for his uncle, a relative newcomer to Camelot. Lord Agravaine Dubois, Arthur's mother's brother, arrived in Camelot shortly after Arthur's victory over Cenred's immortal army. Merlin thought it odd that Arthur had never mentioned his uncle before, but then he really didn't understand the politics of the relationships in royal families. He guessed that there had been some animosity between Uther and Queen Ygraine's brothers. After all, Uther had killed Lord Tristan Dubois when he challenged Uther more than twenty years ago, blaming him for Ygraine's death when Arthur was born.

Now, after Morgana's betrayal, Uther was a broken man, a shadow of his former self, rarely leaving his chambers. Arthur had assumed the role of Prince Regent of necessity, and Lord Agravaine quickly became his most trusted advisor. Family ties overcame all else, it would seem. Merlin was beginning to feel shut out. He had thought that Arthur was beginning to trust and rely on him when he helped Arthur to defeat the immortals and return to Camelot in triumph. But with Agravaine's arrival, Merlin's role was again reduced to that of a simple manservant. Merlin still dreamed of Arthur's recognition and acceptance. But it was not to be. Not yet. He sighs again as he opens the door to his mentor's rooms.

"Gaius," he calls out. "I'm all yours for a few days. Arthur's just left."

"And good morning to you too, Merlin," Gaius says.

"Yeah. Right. Sorry. Good morning." Merlin is sheepish at the gentle rebuke to his manners. "What's on for today?" He takes a seat at the table near the cook-fire.

"I need you to learn to prepare a simple sleeping draught. I've run out, and have to bring some to Stable Master Seward for his pain."

"What's wrong with Master Seward?" Merlin asks. A few years earlier, Merlin had been consigned to work in the stables under Master Seward while Arthur was away. He still helps out from time to time, when sent by Arthur, usually intended as some sort of a punishment. But he's grown fond of the Seward family, particularly young Tyr - and of Mistress Seward's baking.

"He has an ulcerated leg that doesn't seem to be healing. It's causing him a great deal of pain. I'm afraid that we may need to remove it." Gaius is solemn; Seward's condition is grave.

"Oh no, that would be terrible." Merlin is alarmed at the news. "Where's the recipe? I'll get on it right away." He pauses a moment. "Do you think there is anything else I could do to, . . . erm ,. . . you know, help?"

"No, Merlin. It's too dangerous."

"Okay. But I'm just saying."

"Merlin." Gaius says, losing patience. He pulls a large book down from the shelf, and hefts it to the table where Merlin is sitting, opening it to the first page of recipes for sleeping draughts. "Start with the first one, Merlin, but study the others. You'll need to know them."

Merlin reads through the recipe and searches around the vials and bottles and supplies for the ingredients. He copies the recipe into the little book he's taken to carrying around with him. "We need mushrooms, but I think you have everything else."

"Go quickly. You should be able to find the mushrooms you need in the darkling woods."

"Yeah. On my way."

xXx

Merlin ties up Cora in the woods by the side of the road. Carrying a small basket, he walks into the woods, looking down near the base of each tree for the mushrooms he needs. He spies some just near the trail, and squats down to pick them. He brushes the dirt off the mushrooms he's picked on his tunic, ready to set them into the basket he holds in his left hand.

"Merlin, what are you doing here?" he hears. Surprised, he drops the basket.

"Lord Agravaine, you startled me," he says as he leaps to his feet. Merlin shows Agravaine the mushrooms in his hand, "just gathering some medicinal supplies for Gaius."

"Is that what you're doing, with Arthur away?"

"Yes. That and working in the stables to help Master Seward. He's not well." Merlin nervously puts the mushrooms into his pocket.

"I see. Well, best get what you need and get back to Camelot."

"Yes, my lord." Merlin bobs his head a few times and picks up his basket. He continues on his way into the woods.

Agravaine walks back to the path and mounts his horse. He gallops down the road deeper into the woods.

"_What's he doing riding alone in the woods?_" Merlin wonders as he watches the older man ride away.

Agravaine gallops down the road for a few miles before turning left into the deeper woods at a large moss covered boulder on the side of the road that had a marking etched into the moss near the bottom. He rides quickly along a track barely visible through the woods until he comes to a ravine. He rides through, stopping at a side trail, and ties up his horse. He continues on foot and reaches a set of steps comprised of stones fitted into a hillside. As he descends, he calls out, "Morgana!"

She appears in the doorway of a small house tucked into the hill at the bottom of the stone staircase. Morgana is as beautiful as ever, even with her hair wild, and dressed all in black. She has an eager look to her face as she asks, "has he gone?"

"Yes, he left at dawn with Sir Lamorak and two other knights," Agravaine answers.

"And his serving boy?"

"I managed to convince Arthur to leave the boy behind." Agravaine smiles. "The fool is off picking mushrooms. Maybe he'll poison himself."

"Good. Arthur always seems to have good luck when Merlin's around for some reason. Protective of the idiot, maybe."

Agravaine laughs. "Who knows? But he's on his own now."

"You showed him the location on the map?"

"Of course." Agravaine nods. "He'll head right there."

"I'd best be on my way, then, if I'm to catch up with Arthur and his men before they reach the Northern Borders."

"Go safely," Agravaine says, looking at her with undisguised longing. She ignores his look, and turns on her heel to go back into the house. He waits a moment, then reluctantly climbs the staircase up to the trail head where he left his horse.


	2. Chapter 2

The Sorcerer's Slave

Chapter 2

Merlin gives the bottle with the sleeping draught to Mistress Seward for her husband. He's just applied an ointment that Gaius had concocted to Master Seward's leg after cleaning out the wound. The stable master lies on his cot, his arm over his eyes, lips thinned with pain. "This should help ease you pain so you can rest, Master Seward," he says, patting his shoulder gently. He turns to the older man's wife. "I'm sorry we can't do more for him."

"I know, Merlin," she says. "It's so hard." He shakes his head sympathetically.

"I'll go help Tyr now, shall I?" He sees Seward's nod from under his arm.

"Thank you, Merlin," his wife says. "When you're done, come back here. I'll have some bread for you and Gaius."

Merlin smiles and nods his thanks, and leaves the house. He walks over to the stables.

"Tyr!" he calls as he enters. "I thought you might need some help. Arthur's away, so I've got time on my hands."

"I'm back here." Merlin hears Tyr's muffled voice coming from the rear of the large barn. Merlin walks down the length of the barn between the rows of stalls, stopping now and then to stroke a nose poking out over the half-doors. Tyr is manhandling a large bale of hay to get it into position ready to break up to feed the animals.

"Here, let me help you with that," Merlin offers.

"Thanks. It's awkward to manage alone."

"I'm sorry about your father," Merlin says. "Gaius told me how ill he is."

Tyr sits down suddenly on the bale, his head in his hands. "He's in such pain. We didn't think much of his injury at first, but then it didn't heal. And now it seems to be getting worse. Can Gaius's new ointment cure him, do you think?"

"I don't know, Tyr. Only time will tell."

Tyr nods at that, and pulls himself together with a deep breath. He and Merlin finish the job and distribute the feed to the horses. He spends the rest of the afternoon working with Tyr, mending tack and caring for the horses.

xXx

Many days pass and Arthur still isn't back from his trip to deal with the unrest near the Northern Borders. Merlin stands hesitantly outside the door to Arthur's chambers. The doors are not only closed, which is usual, but locked, which isn't. He glances around to see if anyone is near, then reaches out with his hand and with a muttered word unlocks the door, slipping quickly inside.

The chambers are dark and have the dead musty smell of a room long vacant. The fireplace has been swept clean, but no new logs have been laid, ready to be lit in anticipation of Arthur's return. Nor are there any logs in the nearby basket that could be used to lay a fire. None of the candelabra or candlesticks have any candles in them. It's all very puzzling, appearing as if Arthur weren't expected to return at all. Merlin stands with his back to the fireplace, surveying the room with a vague sense of unease. He shakes his head, his mouth in a thin line, and quickly leaves the room.

He walks purposefully to the stairs to make his way to the council chambers. He must speak to someone to find out what news there is of Arthur. The door to the council room is open, and he glances in to see Agravaine seated on Arthur's chair at the head of the table listening to a report from Geoffrey of Monmouth delivered in his most didactic voice to the small group of council members seated at either side of the long table. Merlin moves to enter, passing between the two guards at the open doorway. They cross their halberds to bar his way.

"Stop here. No one may enter," one of the guards says.

"But the door is open. Please let me go in."

"Only council members are permitted to enter. By order of Lord Agravaine."

"No, wait! I need to speak to him," Merlin protests, trying to push past the weapons barring his way.

"Halt!"

Merlin grabs one of the halberds, trying to shove it aside. Hearing the commotion at the doorway, Agravaine looks over, as do the council members who are seated at the table. "What is it?" Agravaine says with irritation.

The guard announces, "My Lord, forgive the interruption, but Prince Arthur's servant would like a word."

"His _servant_ would like a word?" Agravaine repeats with disdain. "Tell him not to waste our time. Send him on his way."

"I'm right here; I can hear you myself," Merlin speaks up. He leans forward into the room. "Please just tell me: what news is there of Arthur?"

"Guards, close the doors," Agravaine orders. The guards shove Merlin out of the way, and close the doors to the council room. Merlin stalks away, frustrated.

He needs to get someone to do something. Thinking that one of Arthur's knights might help, he heads down the grand staircase to the courtyard, intending to go on to the training fields beneath the ramparts. But when he sees Sir Leon and his squire Aurelius near the portico on the side of the courtyard, he calls out, "Sir Leon, please wait a moment." Merlin raises his arm to catch Leon's attention, and trots over to where the other two men are standing.

Leon looks up at Merlin's call. "Merlin, what is it?"

"Has there been any word from Arthur?" Merlin pants as he nears Leon and Aurelius. "Shouldn't he have been back by now?"

"I don't know. It's been less than a week, I think."

"No. Longer." Merlin insists. "What if he's hurt or injured? Why didn't he send word?"

"Having one of your 'funny feelings,' Merlin? Let's give it a few more days, then we'll see."

"Please, Sir Leon, can you talk to Lord Agravaine? He won't listen to me."

"If he's not back in a few more days, I will."

xXx

"I knew I should have gone with him. I don't care what he said. He needed me. It's all my fault. Why did I listen to him? Something's happened; I just know it. Why isn't he back yet? He should have sent word. He should be back by now." A few days have passed since Merlin spoke to Sir Leon and Merlin is frantic. He walks over to the window in the physician's chambers overlooking the courtyard and stares out, then turns back to where Gaius stands measuring out ingredients for the infusion bubbling in the small glass vessel over the flame on his workbench.

"Merlin. Will you calm down?" Gaius puts a hand on Merlin's shoulder to try to stop the younger man's furious pacing in their chambers.

One of Niniane's messenger pigeons starts squawking and flaps about the room, landing on Merlin's shoulder. Niniane* was the court sorceress in the kingdom of the Western Isles. When Merlin and Arthur had visited there a few years ago on a diplomatic mission, she had befriended Merlin and offered him the opportunity of a magical education. He chose to stay with Arthur and return to Camelot, but his friendship with Niniane endured in their frequent communications by her messenger pigeons. Merlin's grown quite fond of them, and has given them names. This one he's called Bluebeard for the bluish hue of the bird's chest feathers that look like a great lush beard under his beak.

Merlin stills, and bites his lip nervously. "I can't calm down, Gaius. I just know something's wrong. This has wrong written all over it. Why hasn't Lord Agravaine done anything? Why isn't he sending the knights to look for Arthur? Why is there no news? Nothing. Someone has to go look for him. Can you talk to him? I tried, but he wouldn't listen to me."

"Merlin."

"Please, Gaius. Arthur's in trouble. I just know it. Where is he? We have to find him!"

"All right, all right. I'll speak to the council to see if we can get a search party organized." Merlin hovers around Gaius, anxiously trying to convey the sense of danger and urgency that he feels, making little pushing movements with his hands. Gaius looks at him over his shoulder. "This minute?"

"Please. Yes, now."

Gaius sighs and lifts the beaker from the flame. He leaves the room, Merlin on his heels. As he follows Gaius, Merlin gently lifts the squawking pigeon away from his shoulder. Bluebeard flies to the window, and lands on the sill pecking his beak at the glass. The two men head down the steps to reach the courtyard and make their way inside through the door that will lead them to the council chambers.

The guards open the door to the council room and step aside for Gaius when he arrives. Agravaine, standing next to Arthur's chair with his hand resting on the high back, is talking to Sir Leon, when Gaius, trailed by Merlin, enters the room. Leon is pointing to a spot on a map that is laid out on the table in front of him. Both look up sharply when Gaius speaks. "My Lord Agravaine, if I may interrupt?" Gaius and Merlin pause at the far end of the table as the doors close behind them.

"What do you need, Gaius?" Agravaine asks curtly.

"It's about Prince Arthur. He's been gone too long," Gaius says. Merlin nods vigorously in agreement with Gaius's words, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"Yes, so Sir Leon has been telling me," Agravaine says. Merlin looks at Leon and smiles broadly in relief. "Sir Leon has proposed a search party to see what can be learned of Arthur's whereabouts, and to report back to Camelot."

"Sir Leon, take me with you!" Merlin blurts out in his desperation.

Leon looks over to Agravaine who says, "no. You'll stay here, as Arthur commanded you."

"But . . ." Merlin launches himself forward to plead with Agravaine.

"Merlin," Gaius grabs Merlin's arm to hold him back. "Sir Leon will find him." Merlin shakes Gaius's hand loose and scowls at him, stalking angrily from the room.

* * *

*A/N: See "Destiny's Choice" by Nantasyland for the back-story of Merlin's friendship with Niniane.


	3. Chapter 3

The Sorcerer's Slave

Chapter 3

"So, where is he?" Agravaine asks.

"Slave traders," Morgana laughs.

"You found them easily?"

"Exactly on the route you said they'd take." Morgana stands and crosses the room to toss another log on the fire. "Arthur and his escort never knew what hit them."

"You didn't use, ah, you know," Agravaine makes a waving gesture with his hand, raising his eyebrows at her.

"Well, of course. What did you expect?" She shrugs, then walks back to sit at the table across from Agravaine, picking up a goblet of water.

"Did Arthur see you?"

"No, he saw only the bandits who overpowered his knights." She laughs again, and takes a drink of water.

"Sir Leon and a few others are going to look for him," Agravaine says. "They left this morning. Will they find a trail to lead to the slave traders?"

"What do you think?"

"Sir Leon will be very frustrated not to find Arthur."

"He'll get over it. Life is full of minor disappointments." Morgana sets down the goblet and leans her elbows on the table, resting her chin on her hands, looking at Agravaine in the eye. "Arthur will never be found. He won't even be able to find himself."

Agravaine leans forward to try to clasp her hands; she spreads her own apart and moves away. "That will be our opportunity, Morgana. I'll stall another search for as long as I can."

"Just don't disappoint me, Agravaine," Morgana says. She stands and walks to the door, opening it. At her clear dismissal, he also rises and reluctantly leaves her cabin.

xXx

Arthur opens his eyes and looks around the cell where he's confined and tries to force himself to remember how he got there. He can feel where he's injured, sensing throbbing pain. It hurts to pick up his head. He's not sure how long he's been held here, days perhaps, but he finds it harder and harder to concentrate, to focus. He feels weak; his head hurts and his stomach roils with nausea. His hands are manacled together. He forces himself to focus. He thinks that they had been set upon by bandits on the morning of the second day of their patrols in the area near the Northern Borders. Slowly, he tries to sit up on his cot, fighting dizziness. He forces himself to remember.

He and his knights had encountered no resistance or found any indication of the troubles that Agravaine had told him were brewing. The whole trip began to seem like a fool's errand and Arthur was ready to call a halt and return back to Camelot the next morning. Dawn was just breaking, and the prince and his knights hadn't yet begun to stir. The men rode in their camp suddenly, faces hidden, and killed two of the knights before a sword could be drawn by any of the Camelot knights. Lamorak and Arthur took up their weapons and tried to force their attackers from horseback to the ground to fight on an equal footing. Arthur saw Lamorak fall, but was unable to help as he was engaged in his own battle, taking down one of the attackers. With the other knights dead, the attackers all focused on Arthur, forcing him to defend himself against many. As he was killing a second attacker, another rode up from behind and dropped a hood over Arthur's head. Arthur tried to remove it to continue his fight, but when he was distracted, the bandits overpowered him. He found himself bound by ropes curled around his body. He fell, his sword knocked from his hand. Then had been thrown over a horse like a sack of grain, and then he woke up here. Wherever here is.

He dimly recalls that he's regained consciousness before in this filthy cell, only to be subjected to the visits of a sorcerer who was somehow poisoning his mind. In the dim light that filters through the bars in the door, Arthur has made out the figure of a tall, thin man in dark robes. He's seen the man's eyes glow a dark gold each time he entered the cell and told him to "keep still." Arthur's attempts to fight the command or to try to protect himself have been met with bursts of pain that cause him to black out. Each time he awakens, it's harder for him to remember who he is and what has happened.

The cell door opens and Arthur involuntarily cringes in fear. The guard who enters laughs. "Not him this time. You're summoned. So you need to be alert."

"Where am I?" Arthur croaks, his throat sore. He's asked that before, he's sure. But he's never gotten an answer.

"You'll find out soon enough," the guard says as he grabs the chain connecting the shackles and forces Arthur to his feet. Arthur struggles with the guard, despite his dizziness. The guard jerks the chain, making Arthur stumble along behind him into the corridor outside his cell.

After climbing a flight of stairs, they reach another long corridor. Another guard joins them and hustles Arthur along, giving him a swift kick from behind that sends Arthur flying forward onto his knees. The guard holding the chain pulls it hard, so Arthur is forced to scramble to his feet to follow. The two other men pull and push him into large room, forcing him to down to the floor in front of a man lounging in a chair, a goblet in one hand and a whip in the other. He cracks the whip, slicing open the front of Arthur's tunic, drawing blood.

"It's best to hit him where it won't show," Jarl reminds the two guards and laughs out loud. "So, Arthur Pendragon. This time I know who you are. You escaped from me last time with your two little friends, but you're on your own now. It won't be quite so easy," Jarl sneers.

Jarl had survived Morgause's attack in Cenred's throne room. You shall have your reward, she's said, and flung him backwards. It hadn't been a killing spell, but he suffered from it, and held Arthur responsible because it was his identity he had gone to tell them about. Arthur had escaped from his stronghold, with his two companions, and had continued on his quest. Jarl had heard that Cenred's army had been defeated in its attack on Camelot, and that Cenred himself hadn't survived an assault by Morgause's power. Arthur was to blame for it all.

When the witch and the bandits brought Arthur to him this time, Jarl was only too happy to accept the gift of Arthur's capture and would have paid handsomely for him. But he wasn't asked for payment. The woman only wanted him gone. Gone and forgotten. She had wrung a promise from him to sell Arthur as far away from Camelot as possible. When he suggested the possibility that his sorcerer could cause Arthur himself to lose who he was, she was delighted. He had seen the sorcerer's power in controlling the minds of men. Arthur would vanish, none knowing who he was. The woman paid him to see this done to a man she clearly feared and despised. Jarl had chosen not to ask who she was and why she hated Arthur. All he cared was that he had the means to profit from her revenge.

"Don't be so sure," Arthur retorts as he struggles with the men holding his bonds.

"You don't remember me, do you?"

"You're a filthy slave trader, Jarl. I know who you are."

Jarl laughs again. "Ask Malus to join us here," he says to one of the guards, then turns back to Arthur, "Malus is a powerful sorcerer. He'll keep you in line."

"I will fight him."

"You won't be able to." Jarl looks at him pityingly. "You're going to be sold, Arthur. And when your new master takes possession of you, you will not know who you are. You will never be found, or even remembered."

"My knights will find me," Arthur says with certainty.

"They are not even looking for you," Jarl sneers.

Malus sweeps into the room, in a swirl of black robes bordered with green. His thin face, with its sharp nose, is framed by long, dark lank hair. The sorcerer nods his head to Jarl, as he approaches Arthur. Arthur struggles with the guards holding his chain, suddenly afraid, seeing who it is. Arthur remembers this man from his visits to Arthur's cell. He remembers the pain that he experienced at this man's hands, without being touched. He was helpless to prevent it or avoid it.

Malus stands in front of Arthur, face to face. Taking the back of Arthur's head in his hand, he casts his spell as his dark golden eyes stare into Arthur's to reinforce the enchantment. Arthur tries to fight it, kicking out at the sorcerer, and trying to wrench his head free. Ultimately, Arthur succumbs, going limp and collapsing to the floor.

"We need to have him able to work," Jarl complains, "not to be carted around."

"He will be," Malus says. "The enchantment is strong, and its effects are strongest while it builds. It will take control of his mind, and his body will tolerate it. But it will ultimately wear off in time. For now, I will need to renew it and strengthen it, so that when he fights it, his own thoughts and memories will torment him. It will be painful."

"Good, it's no less than he deserves," Jarl says. "When will he be ready to go?"

"No more than a week," Malus says. "Then you will be able to sell him to the highest bidder, and none will be the wiser. Least of all, Arthur himself."

"It's important that he never be found."

"As long as his master never learns who he is, and keeps his enchantment fresh." Malus looks down at Arthur's inert body on the floor. "He'll never remember. No one will know."

Arthur is taken back to his cell.


	4. Chapter 4

The Sorcerer's Slave

Chapter 4

When Merlin hears that Sir Leon has returned to Camelot, he races to the courtyard to see if Arthur is with him. He sees Leon and the other knights with bodies positioned in front of them on their horses. "Sir Leon," he yells frantically as he runs over. "Where's Arthur? Did you find him?"

Leon shakes his head. He gestures to the guards to approach and take the bodies they've brought back with them. Leon dismounts, tossing the horse's reins to a waiting groom, and immediately heads up the grand staircase. Merlin follows him into the throne room where Agravaine is hearing petitions. Agravaine is standing in front of the throne on the dais, with Geoffrey of Monmouth at a small table at his side keeping notes of the proceedings. Leon leads the men of his patrol into the room and down its length.

"Sir Leon," Agravaine says, seeing Leon approach. He dismisses the next petitioner "What have you found?"

Leon inclines his head. "Lord Agravaine," he says, "we found no sign of the prince. We found his escort, dead. It looked like there was an attack on the party, possibly by bandits. But we couldn't find a trail to follow to see where they may have gone."

"So there was no sign of him?"

"None, my lord. There were signs of a struggle, but he must have been taken away." Leon is unable to tell more because it appeared to be a dead end, but he doesn't want to just give up. "If we sent out more search parties, perhaps . . . ."

Agravaine interrupts, "and perhaps not. We will consider it."

Standing in the shadows in the rear of the room, Merlin is itching to hear more, to find out what happened. He is not convinced that this is where it all ends: with a terse report from a knight that no trail could be found. There must be a trail. Arthur must be somewhere. He frowns at Leon, willing him to say more.

"My Lord Agravaine, if you please," Leon does continue. "I would suggest that Sir Percival and Sir Gwaine take a few knights and resume the search. They're the best trackers we have. Perhaps they would be able to discern a trail where I could not in my haste to return to Camelot with the fallen knights."

"The matter is closed, Sir Leon," Agravaine snaps out. "You found no trace of Arthur. It's been more than a week. What evidence could possibly still remain for them to find?"

"But . . " Leon makes one last attempt.

"Sir Leon." Agravaine holds up his hand in warning. "I have decided with the council to take a diplomatic approach. Sir Geoffrey of Monmouth will head a small delegation to visit neighboring kingdoms to make respectful inquiries. Sir Gwaine and Sir Percival will escort him."

Geoffrey looks up at this in surprise. And Merlin is lost. He moans softly, turns and leaves the throne room.

xXx

Merlin spoons out the stew into the wooden bowls and carries them carefully to the small table where Gaius is slicing a loaf of Mistress Seward's bread. They are in the main room of Gaius's chambers. It's early evening just getting dark after the long summer day; Merlin's wave ignited the candles when he walked in a few minutes earlier. He's grateful that Gaius has made a stew for supper rather than the bland porridge he had been expecting.

"Were you working at the stables again today, Merlin?" Gaius asks, gesturing with his knife at the loaf of bread Merlin had brought with him.

"Yeah. Master Seward's leg seems to be improving somewhat. That last ointment you devised is helping."

"I'm glad to hear it. I'll make another batch for you to deliver tomorrow."

"Okay," Merlin says distractedly. After a moment he adds, "listen, Gaius. I have to go."

"What do you mean, Merlin? Go where?"

"To find Arthur." Merlin takes a piece of bread and dunks it into his stew.

"You can't." Gaius is not surprised, just alarmed.

"You know as well as I that Geoffrey's 'diplomatic mission' is going to fail. He'll not find anything. And Agravaine won't permit another actual search party."

"With Gwaine and Percival escorting him, they may yet pick up a trail." Gaius scoops up a spoonful of the stew, blowing on it to cool it a bit before he puts it in his mouth. "That's our best hope, unless Arthur can find a way to contact Camelot."

"Geoffrey won't allow them to search. He's too rigid and stodgy." Merlin shakes his head. "Nope. I have to go myself."

"Agravaine will never give you leave."

"Then I won't ask for it." Merlin turns his attention to the stew, done with this conversation.

"Merlin, you can't do this. It's too risky."


	5. Chapter 5

The Sorcerer's Slave

Chapter 5

Merlin has decided that he has to go find Arthur by himself. Sir Geoffrey's diplomatic mission will accomplish nothing he's convinced and will never find Arthur. If Arthur is being held prisoner somewhere, Geoffrey's respectful inquiries will garner no information. Merlin doesn't think that any kingdom having abducted Arthur will admit to it. Some kind of ransom demand would have been expected. But as far as Merlin knows, there has been none. No, he was taken for some other purpose. Arthur is in danger. He's sure of it.

He has to go search for Arthur even if it means defying Arthur's command that he remain in Camelot. He's free to travel, is he not? He's Arthur's servant, not Arthur's slave. Why should he fear punishment? Does he really need permission? What if he wanted to go travel to visit Ealdor? He's could go, couldn't he?

But somehow he senses that there seems to be more to this than Agravaine's wrath at mere disobedience to Arthur's command. Agravaine appears to be insistent that no one actively search for Arthur – that he clearly does not want Arthur to be found. Agravaine appears to be using Arthur's absence to amass his own power, and will no doubt seek Camelot's wealth as well. Merlin is sure that Agravaine would use his power as acting regent to prevent Merlin from leaving Camelot to find Arthur and would strictly enforce Arthur's command to his servant to remain. But Merlin has to take that risk. It's the only thing that he can do, given the events that had transpired just that morning. Agravaine has taken too much on himself, usurping Arthur's place. Agravaine's announcement to the entire court of Camelot was the final spur to Merlin's decision.

The day after Sir Leon had returned to Camelot with the bodies of the slain knights and the report of Arthur's disappearance, and presumed loss, Lord Agravaine had assembled the entire royal court to the throne room to announce his assumption of the regency. Merlin had been standing next to Gaius along the side of the long room to hear the announcement. He turned to Gaius and muttered, "this cannot be. He has no right." He shook his head from side to side in vehement denial.

"Shh, Merlin," Gaius had hissed, his hand on Merlin's arm, to caution him. "Keep quiet."

"What about Prince Arthur?" Merlin had shouted suddenly, jerking free of Gaius's restraint. All the heads in the room swiveled to look at him. "Surely you're still searching for him."

"Guards, remove Arthur's servant from the room," Agravaine commanded. The knights and courtiers began to look around in confusion. A pair of guards made their way through the crowd to reach Merlin.

Leon stepped forward. "My Lord Agravaine, should we not continue our search for the prince? He must be somewhere."

"No doubt, Sir Leon. But we don't know where Arthur is or even if he is still alive. A search may be pointless. We'll let Sir Geoffrey deal with this through diplomacy."

As the guards firmly escorted Merlin from the room, he heard Agravaine's words to the court. "Until he returns, someone must assume the throne."

xXx

He's made his decision, and now Merlin is flat on his stomach, halfway under Arthur's bed in the dark and silent room. He reaches out with his right hand and snags the handle of the strongbox hidden far in the back. The box scrapes on the stone floor as Merlin pulls it out from under the bed, scooting his body backwards. He sits up, with the box in front of him and stares at it. It's locked, he knows, but that's no barrier. He's hesitating because he knows taking gold from the prince's box would be considered a serious theft. He had been severely punished for theft once before, although he was innocent of the crime. His back still bore the scars of that incident, and he still feared the cruelty of the two squires who had falsely accused him.* He had never told Arthur about this incident, adding one more secret to all the others that he carried. Agravaine was no Uther, but somehow he bore the same degree of animosity toward Merlin. He wouldn't be sparing in his judgment if Arthur's serving boy were to be caught stealing from the prince. With Arthur gone, there would be no one else but Agravaine to decree his fate. "_Best not be caught, then_," he thinks wryly.

But Arthur needed him now, and he had to do all he could to find him and save him. And a journey out of Camelot would require gold to pay his way. He sighs, and with a word and a wave and a flare of golden eyes, he opens the box. He fills a small pouch, which he slips into his pocket. He locks the box again, and shoves it back out of sight under the bed. Silently, he crosses Arthur's empty room to listen at the door. Hearing no one nearby, Merlin slips out into the corridor, locking the door behind him.

"_Now, the map_," he thinks, and heads down the hall. He walks quickly, to distance himself from Arthur's chambers, but there is no one around to see him or challenge him. He allows himself to relax a bit. He emerges into the light drizzle at the top of the grand staircase. The few passersby in the courtyard are all preoccupied with their own need to move quickly inside and out of the light rain. He's looking for Sir Leon to ask him for the map he used when he first located where Arthur's party had been ambushed, although he's not sure that Leon would be willing to give it to him.

He finds Leon in the armory, twisting around trying to remove his own armor by himself. Merlin moves over to help him. Leon stills his hands and smiles at Merlin gratefully.

"Where's Aurelius?" Merlin asks, his deft fingers busy with the buckle on the straps attaching the spaulders at Leon's shoulders.

"I sent him to the stables with the horses," Leon says. Aurelius is Leon's squire, who had come to Camelot a few years ago from Londinium to squire with the Knights of Camelot. He is Arthur's cousin, son of Ambrosius, Uther's brother. Merlin unbuckles Leon's armor and sets the pieces on the table. He taps Leon on the shoulder to signal him to bend forward so Merlin can pull his chainmail off over his head.

"We're just back from patrol. It looks like it's going to pour down buckets, so we called off training for the rest of the day." Straightening up, Leon nods his thanks to Merlin as he lowers the chainmail onto a rack near the wall. "Is there something you wanted, Merlin?"

Merlin stands with his back to Leon, carefully drying the chain mail on the rack. His shoulders tense with apprehension, trying to anticipate Leon's reaction to his request. Merlin's been commanded to remain in Camelot. If he asks for the map, Leon will know that he plans to leave without permission. He's unsure whether Leon would allow him to go or tell Agravaine. If Agravaine learns of Merlin's plans, Merlin would surely be restrained and prevented from leaving. Agravaine clearly does not want anyone searching for Arthur. Merlin knows that he cannot be confined against his will as he could always use his magic to escape. But he doesn't want to reveal his secret to anyone, and certainly not to Agravaine, of all people. He doesn't trust the man, despite his familial relationship to Arthur. He hesitates for a moment before answering Leon, deciding whether he can trust him. Merlin thinks that Leon is his friend of sorts, not like Lancelot, of course – noble, brave Lancelot whose sacrifice spared Merlin's own and Arthur's life and saved all of Camelot from the dorocha – or even Gwaine, but rather someone who sees of Merlin as another's younger brother, a mascot, whose hair he would sometimes ruffle to indicate a kind of distant fondness.

His desperation to find Arthur overcomes his uncertainty and he says, "Sir Leon. When you went looking for Arthur, did you have a map?"

"Why do you ask, Merlin?"

"Erm . . . no reason. Just curious." Merlin doesn't turn around, his shoulders sagging in defeat. Leon isn't going to help him.

Leon steps up behind Merlin and puts his hand on the younger man's shoulder, turning him around. "You're going to look for him, aren't you?"

Merlin swallows hard, and looks Leon in the eye. "I have to," he whispers. "Please."

Leon nods sharply. "Come with me."

Merlin follows him, unsure until Leon leads him to the map room next door. Leon crosses the room to the high worktable in the center where numerous maps are strewn about. He glances through them and pulls out two parchments, handing one to Merlin. "I had copies made," he says, "in the hope that Lord Agravaine would permit another search. He refuses to consider it. Our hands are tied."

"Why can't you or the knights just go?"

"As regent he's our commander now. We can't just go against his orders. Gwaine tried, and was strongly rebuked."

Merlin looks at him in disappointment and disbelief. "It's our prince," he says. Leon simply shakes his head in resignation, his mouth a thin line. Merlin takes a deep breath, unrolls the map and holds it out to Leon. "Show me where."

xXx

With the map in hand and the gold in his pocket, Merlin hastens back to his own room to pack a few personal supplies for the journey. Gaius's chambers are empty when he arrives, although one of the pigeons flies over to perch on his shoulder. "I'm going to find Arthur," he tells the bird confidingly, "where could he be?" To Merlin's ears, the bird's squawking sounds like it is responding to Merlin with encouragement. Merlin smiles at the pigeon's antics as it flies back and forth between Merlin and the window. He walks over to the window and opens it. "If you insist, Bluebeard," he says aloud as if the bird understood. "But why you would want to fly out in this rain is anybody's guess!" The pigeon takes flight and soars out the window.

Merlin starts rummaging through the medicine vials on the shelves along the wall. He finds a bottle of the glowing blue potion to reverse the aging spell and nods to himself. That might prove useful. He collects a few others that he thinks might be useful in case Arthur is injured, and gathers them along with some clean bandages in a small leather medicine bag. He finds a water skin and slings it over his shoulder. Up the steps in his own room, he grabs a change of clothing and his grey cloak. He fills his pack. Taking his blanket from his bed, he rolls it up and ties it with a leather thong. He's ready.

As he leaves Gaius's chambers, Merlin takes a long look around, half to see if there is anything he could take that would be useful, and half to say goodbye. He's not certain he'll be back. If he cannot find Arthur and bring him home, there would be no reason for him to return. Without Arthur, he has no destiny, no future in Camelot.

Merlin goes to stables to borrow a horse. He dashes inside, shaking his head to scatter the raindrops trapped in his hair. "Tyr!" he calls out. "Are you here?"

"Yes, Merlin, over in Cora's stall."

"Oh. Is Cora okay?" Merlin asks as he walks between the stalls to find Tyr.

"She will be in a day or so," Tyr answers. "She had a stone lodged in her shoe, causing some pain."

"Oh." Cora is the mare that Merlin usually rides. She's gentle and calm, responsive to Merlin's commands. "I had hoped to borrow her for a few days."

"Where are you going?"

"I have to . . . erm . . . take a short trip."

Tyr looks at Merlin with a small frown, but refrains from asking further questions. "Take Llamri instead," Tyr offers. "She always behaved well with you."

"Thank you, Tyr. I will make sure she's returned to you." With Tyr's help, Merlin saddles her and secures his gear behind the saddle. "you're taking a risk, you know, helping me. If Agravaine should find out, you could be accused of horse theft."

"He'll never notice," Tyr says.

"But still, be careful." Tyr shrugs and waves away Merlin's concern.

"Merlin, did you pack any food?" Tyr asks. "I bet you didn't, did you? You never do. Wait here, I'll be right back." Tyr goes running off to his house.

Merlin is standing just inside the stable door, looking out at he dismal rain, adjusting his cloak and waiting for Tyr to return, when Gaius enters.

"I just saw Sir Leon," he says by way of explanation for his appearance, shaking the rain off his robes. "He told me what you're up to. Were you planning to just go without saying goodbye?"

"Gaius, don't even think about telling me not to go. There's nothing you can say that will stop me."

"I wasn't going to try and stop you, Merlin. All I ask is that you make sure you come back safely too."

"Only if I find Arthur. If I can't, there's no point."

"Merlin." Gaius enfolds the younger man in a hug, fearful about what will happen to him if he cannot find Arthur and bring him home. He knows it will break his heart.

Tyr runs up, with a parcel in his hands. "My mother packed it for you."

"Thank her for me," Merlin smiles, putting the food package in his pack. "She's always so kind." He mounts Llamri, with a final handclasp for Gaius. He raises the hood of his cloak to cover his head from the rain, and turns the horse to exit from the stables, and leave Camelot, possibly for good.

Gwen ducks into the stables out of the rain, up to Gaius when she sees Merlin riding away on Llamri. She calls out to Merlin, but he doesn't hear, or doesn't want to. She turns to Gaius.

"Where's Merlin going?"

"To look for Arthur."

"Alone? _Merlin_?" she is incredulous.

"He's more capable than most people give him credit for."

"By most people, I assume you mean Arthur. He does always say that Merlin is a clumsy idiot. But I'm not sure he really believes it," she admits. "But still, what can Merlin do by himself?"

"You have to trust him."

"Won't he be punished again for running away?" Gwen's face reflects her concern for Merlin, recalling his punishment from Uther once before when it was thought he had run away. Agravaine liked Merlin no more than Uther did, and would relish the chance to put the serving boy in his place, Gwen sensed. Agravaine saw Merlin as an impediment to his access to the center of power.

"Not if he brings Arthur home."

"Do you think he'll be able to?" Gwen asks, with an edge of despair in her voice. "Will we ever see Arthur again?"

Gaius looks at her with sadness in his eyes, and says, "if Merlin can't find Arthur, I don't think he'll be coming back since no one else seems to be searching for him."

* * *

*A/N: See "The Squires' Revenge" by Nantasyland for the backstory.


	6. Chapter 6

The Sorcerer's Slave

Chapter 6

The rain continues steadily as Merlin follows the route of Arthur's journey in the north, using the map Leon had given him. He finds the location where Leon siad the knights had been killed and Arthur taken, but doesn't know where to go from there. The relentless rain had erased any signs that might have been left by a group of horses riding off, if there had even been any to find. Leon's party hadn't found any trail. On Llamri's back, Merlin circles the small clearing several times in the rain, reaching out with his magic for any hint, any whiff or remnant of Arthur's or his attackers' presence. His magic senses nothing. It's as if the area has been wiped clean somehow along with the erasure of physical evidence of the passage of travelers on the trail. Was there magic used?

Resigned, he returns to a small cave he had spotted in a hillside on the way for shelter from the rain for the night to think out his next move. It's small, but relatively dry. He starts a fire in the opening for light and warmth. Then he unsaddles Llamri and ties her to a tree with some food, glad for the horse's sake that the rain is finally lessening. After eating some of the food that Mistress Seward had provided, he sits staring into the fire as night gathers. Idly he reaches out with his hand and spells forth the image of a dragon from the sparks.

"_Of course!"_ he thinks. Then he takes off from the cave, cloak flying behind him, to find an open area to call the dragon. He stands, feet spread, face up to the sky and calls. A few moments later, he hears the beat of heavy wings as the dragon approaches.

"What are you doing here, Merlin?" Kilgarrah asks after he lands heavily, "so far from Camelot on your own?"

"Looking for Arthur."

"And how can I help you with that, young warlock?"

"Do you know where he is? Can you find him?"

"No. I am sorry. I cannot discern the whereabouts of a single individual. Except yourself, of course."

"How will I find him?" Merlin asks despairingly.

"Trust your magic, Merlin," the dragon says as he flexes his legs and beats his wings to take flight.

"That's no answer!" Merlin shouts up at him. "Help me. Please!"

"I have. Trust your magic." With that, Kilgarrah soars into the clouds.

Merlin is frustrated that the dragon never gives him a straight answer. He stalks angrily back to the cave in the hillside. His anger makes his magic writhe within, and his eyes glow gold. "Where is Arthur? How will I find him?" he mutters as he nears the cave. He's startled by an answering squawk from Bluebeard, perched on Llamri's bridle. Llamri snorts and bobs her head. The pigeon tilts its head to look at Merlin with a beady eye, a small pinpoint of gold glowing deep inside. The bird hops onto Merlin's shoulder and coos in his ear. Merlin smiles. He'll be able to find Arthur.

Early the next morning, Merlin leaves the shelter of the small cave. The rain from the day before has washed everything clean, and the sun warms the air. He knows now what he must do. He readies the horse for travel, but stops for a moment when putting on her bridle. He takes her head in his hands and summons his magic. His eyes glow as he silently tells the horse, "_follow the bird. Find Arthur_." He packs up his gear and mounts Llamri, the pigeon following him. Bluebeard perches on his shoulder. Merlin swivels his head to look at the bird, his eyes gold, with a single focused thought: "_find Arthur_." The pigeon squawks once and glides ahead to point the direction they must travel; Merlin trusts Llamri to find the route on the ground.

xXx

"Keep still," Malus commands. Arthur ceases his struggling in his cell against the chains that bind his wrists as Malus approaches, eyes burning. Malus is pleased that after each of his visits, Arthur is more under his control. Arthur stands dutifully, his hands down in front of his body, head bent. "Kneel before me."

Arthur slowly gets to his knees and looks up at the sorcerer in fear. Malus walks around behind him and places his hand on the back of Arthur's head. Arthur inclines it in response. "Very good, you're learning."

Malus cants slowly. When he completes his spell, he says, "you are nothing. You can do nothing. You could not even lead your men to safety when the bandits attacked. You got them killed, Arthur. It is your fault that they're dead."

Arthur nods. "It's all my fault. I couldn't save them," he says numbly. "It's all my fault."

Malus cants again and Arthur faints.

xXx

Mounted on Llamri, Merlin had followed the pigeon's flight path for days until the bird started circling a stone fortress, just over the border from the Kingdom of Camelot, in Carleon. Seen from a distance, the central tower, at the edge of the cliff over a wide river, stood stark against the landscape. Down river, where the topography was gentler, sat a small village.

He makes his way into the village and stops at the inn to find some food and a room for the night. He dismounts and ties Llamri up at the rail fence at the stables next door to the inn, and watches Bluebeard flap away into the late afternoon sunlight. He's sure he'll see him again. He ducks into the dim light of the inn and stops a barmaid who is passing burdened with a tray laden with tankards of ale.

"The innkeeper?" he asks. She signals with a shoulder to indicate the back of the room where a beefy man stands behind a bar, wiping down the table top with a damp cloth. Merlin walks over, pulling a coin from his pocket, which he places on the bar. "A meal and a room for the night, please."

The innkeeper slides the coin into his own pocket. "What brings you here, traveler?" the innkeeper asks, looking at the bearded face of an older man with dark hair to his shoulders.

"My name is Myrddin. I am a traveling physician, making my way north to Rheged," Merlin tells him, adopting a trade to match his disguise. He has tempered the aging spell so that he doesn't look like an eighty year old man. Rather, he looks to be a man in his middle years, with streaks of grey in his hair and beard. His magic has transformed his body so that he no longer appears to be a gangly boy, but a tall, broad shouldered man at the peak of his strength. His clothing, created by the spell, completes the disguise, with a long dark brown leather coat replacing the servant's tunic and fawn jacket. "Would you arrange for stabling and feed for my horse as well?"

"Yes, my lord. We can accommodate you. Of course." The innkeeper hesitates, half turning away before he spoke again. "Master Myrddin, my wife's nephew was injured in a fall yesterday. Would you be able to see to him?"

"I'll do what I can," Merlin said. "Let me get my pack and medicine bag."

After Merlin treats the young boy's injury, the innkeeper settles him with his dinner in a quiet and private corner in the back of the main room of the inn. Overjoyed that her nephew has been treated, the innkeeper's wife tells the villagers that Merlin was a physician. Before he knows it, Merlin faces one villager after another with minor medical complaints. He's glad that he had raided Gaius's shelves of various remedies so he is able to help.

As he works, he asks questions about the stronghold on the cliff. The villagers tell him of the people they saw coming and going. One leans in across the table to whisper to the physician that it is the keep of slave traders. Merlin knows he had found what he was looking for. He is certain he knows where Arthur is. He makes his way to his bedchamber with a few extra coins in his purse, and a feeling of hope.


	7. Chapter 7

The Sorcerer's Slave

Chapter 7

Agravaine strides across the courtyard in mid-morning under a cloudy sky. He'd delayed it as much as possible, but he'd been forced to permit that old fool Geoffrey to undertake his diplomatic journey to neighboring kingdoms. Gwaine and Percival were eager to be off on the mission, hopeful that it might lead to some information on Arthur's whereabouts, so arranged the details for the trip with all due speed. Sir Geoffrey and his escort have just departed, and Agravaine is eager to let Morgana know of this development. He reaches the stable yard expecting to see the boy ready with his mount. He had sent word with a page that he needed his horse ready to ride as soon as the group left the castle. The yard is empty.

"Boy!" he calls out, entering the stables themselves. He walks down the center aisle the length of the stables, looking into the stalls as he passes. At the far end he sees the stable boy bring out his horse. He stops mid-way. "_Strange_," he thinks, noticing that the stall in which Arthur's horse is kept is empty. He stops at its door.

"My Lord Agravaine," Tyr says as he leads the horse to where the older man is standing. "My apologies. It's been a busy morning, what with getting the group ready for the trip."

Agravaine waves away his excuses with irritation. "Where is Arthur's horse?" Agravaine asks.

"You mean Llamri?" Tyr says, stalling. He tries to hand Agravaine the horse's reins. Agravaine ignores them, pointing instead to the stall to his right.

"Yes. Llamri. Her stall is empty."

"Um, well. She was borrowed." Tyr nervously twists the reins his hands at Agravaine's abrupt questions.

"Who took her?"

"Well, um, it was only a few days ago. She'll be returned."

"Who took her?" Agravaine repeats, a harsh edge to his voice.

"He'll bring her back. He promised. It's just he had to take a short trip."

"Who?" Agravaine is impatient with Tyr's evasions, and steps forward menacingly.

"Merlin," Tyr mumbles, taking a step backwards, looking down at his feet.

"Merlin? Arthur's servant?" Agravaine is now angry. "How dare he steal a horse and leave Camelot? He was ordered to remain here."

"He'll be back in a few days, I'm sure." Tyr cowers, again trying to hand Agravaine the horse's reins.

This time, Agravaine snatches them from Tyr. "You'd better hope he is, boy. Otherwise, you will bear the consequences of stealing a horse from the royal stables."

Agravaine wheels around, leading his horse outside to the stable yard where he mounts. He rides swiftly out through the gate. He must tell Morgana that Arthur's idiot servant has taken off in search of the prince.

xXx

In the morning, Merlin is eager to leave the inn to make his way to the stronghold. He dresses quickly, shoulders his pack, and clatters his way down the stairs to the main room of the inn. He settles his bill and tells the innkeeper to have the stable boy ready his horse for departure as he sits at a table near the door, his pack resting on the bench beside him. The innkeeper's wife brings a platter with some fruit, bread and cheese, thanking him for his help with her nephew the day before, with a curtsy. He smiles at her praise. He takes only a few bites of his breakfast in his haste to leave, stuffing the rest wrapped in a cloth into his pack. With a wave to the innkeeper, he walks out of the dim interior into the brighter light of a cloudy morning, heading to the stables nearby.

The sun is higher in the sky, but now well hidden behind the darkening clouds, when he reaches Jarl's stronghold, still in his disguise as a distinguished traveler, middle-aged, with brown hair to his shoulders and a beard, laced with a touch of grey. He'd followed the directions that the stable boy had given him. Although the stronghold had appeared to tower over the village on the river, getting there seemed to require a roundabout route on the road leading from the village up through the forest. The stronghold sits in a large clearing, with a commanding presence over its approach road. No one would be able to reach it unseen. The back of the fortress overlooks the cliff looming over the river far below.

As he nears the gates of the stronghold mounted on Llamri, the guards challenge him.

"I would speak to your master," Merlin demands.

"What's your business here?"

"That is for me to discuss with your master. Fetch me to him." The guards open the gates and wave him through.

"Leave your horse here," the guard says, "and your weapons."

"I have none, as you can see," Merlin answers as he dismounts and ties Llamri to a post just inside the gate underneath a thatched overhang. He holds his coat out with his hands from his body to show he has no sword or knife. His small pocketknife is well hidden in his boot.

It starts to rain as one of the guards leads him from the gates and to a door to the keep on the right of the entrance. A few steps through the doorway, a pair of large double doors leads into the main room where Jarl sits at a table with a cup of wine in his hand, a half-eaten plate of food in front of him. The room is chill; the fire in the hearth does little to warm the space. With only dim light entering through the rain now pelting the tall narrow windows along the side, candles illuminate the center of the room.

Merlin's escort walks with him to near the table to stand in front of the slave trader. Merlin waits, his escort behind him, while Jarl takes a drink from his goblet, assessing him over the rim of the cup. Merlin recognizes Jarl from his own capture with Arthur by the slavers when they were searching for the Cup of Life. But Merlin is confident that Jarl won't know who he is in his present appearance as an older man. Merlin looks up and sees another man standing against the wall with his back to a window, face hidden in shadow.

"Master Jarl," the guard says. "He arrived just now, asking to speak to you." Jarl ignores the man, keeping his gaze on Merlin.

"Who are you?" Jarl asks, waving his goblet around. "What are you doing here?"

"My name is Myrddin," he says bringing his gaze back to the slave trader from the man with the shadowed face. "I am a physician traveling from town to town. I have need of a helper to travel with me."

"So why do you come here?" Jarl sets his goblet on the table, sitting up attentively.

"I was told in the village that you would be able to help me find such a servant." Merlin studies Jarl, and adds, "they were careful in their words. I guessed their meaning."

"The right servant can be costly."

"I have gold sufficient to pay," Merlin says, patting the pocket where he has secreted the pouch containing Arthur's gold.

"What are you looking for?" asks Jarl, smiling broadly and exposing his rotting teeth and gums.

"I need a servant who can read and write, but who is also skilled with a sword for protection of me and my wares during my travels."

Jarl glances back at the man near the window, who gives a small shake of his head. Jarl shrugs and turns back to look at Merlin.

"Where do you come from, Myrddin?" the man with the shadowed face interjects as he steps forward into the lighted area of the chamber. Merlin startles in recognition of the older sorcerer, Malus.

Merlin remembers well their last encounter,* and is suddenly apprehensive, facing Malus again. He keeps tight control over his magic and tries to keep his face expressionless. Malus does not appear to have recognized the middle-aged man as the young serving boy he encountered near the Citadel of Daelbeth outside Londinium. But Merlin well remembers the choking and the cold fear he felt at that meeting. Malus had been trying to find Emrys to challenge him and to destroy him. Arthur's arrival then had saved Merlin just in time from Malus's wrath at his seeming ignorance.

He schools his features not to reveal his recognition of the other man and answers calmly. "From the Western Isles, a small village in the northern part of the island."

"Magic is practiced freely there, is it not?" Malus continues.

"That is so," answers Merlin. "Yet not all are magical."

"And you? Do you use magic in your healings?" Malus asks.

"Magic is not accepted so readily here in the five kingdoms."

"Is that where you will be traveling?" Jarl asks.

"Only in the north, to Rheged, Deira." Merlin points in the general direction he thinks is north.

"Not Camelot?" Malus questions sharply, stepping forward.

"No," Merlin says, shaking his head. "I don't think my skills are needed there."

Malus nods, and says, "good." He looks over at Jarl and nods again. "He is ready," he says.

"I have just the servant for you Master Myrddin," Jarl says with another smile. Turning to the guard, he says, "bring out Bear."

Merlin feels that he's passed some kind of a test that Malus had set him, but he's not sure what or how.

* * *

*A/N: See "The Runaway Servant" by Nantasyland for the back-story of Merlin's encounter with Malus.


	8. Chapter 8

The Sorcerer's Slave

Chapter 8

"Tell me, Master Myrddin," Malus says as they wait for the slave to be brought in. "In your travels, have you heard talk of a sorcerer named Emrys?" Malus has moved over to the table where Jarl is seated and leans back against it, half sitting on it, facing Merlin, who is still standing where the guard had left him.

"Emrys?" Merlin echoes, keeping his face impassive. "No, I can't say that I've encountered a person with that name. Who is he?"

"The Druids claim that he is the greatest sorcerer who has ever lived." Malus thins his lips in an angry twist as he speaks. "But they are wrong. I am Malus and I am the most powerful sorcerer ever." He pauses, controlling his anger. He lifts his arm and points to himself. "I have created the spell that controls this slave. He will not be able to escape it."

"What do you mean? What kind of a spell?" Merlin asks in a rush of words. "How does it control him?"

"All in good time, Master Myrddin," Malus smirks, dropping his hand again. Jarl is silent through this exchange, frowning up at the window where the rain is streaking down the glass.

Arthur is brought into the room, stumbling and mute, hands bound together with a coarse rope. His red tunic and breeches are torn and stained; there is no sign of the chainmail or quilted jacket he had no doubt been wearing when captured. He keeps his head down, submissive and confused, uncertain of what is going on.

Merlin is appalled by his condition, but says, "this one doesn't look fierce. How can I be sure he is skilled with a sword for my defense?"

Jarl stands and walks over to Arthur, grabbing his arm and giving him a shake. The sudden jarring movement startles Arthur and he looks up from his stupor. He swivels his head around and cringes when he sees Malus leaning against the table nearby. He quickly shifts his glance away and looks at Merlin curiously, seeing a man in his middle years that he doesn't recognize. He tries to pull away from Jarl's grasp. Jarl drops his arm, but raises his hand in a stunning blow across Arthur's face. Arthur staggers a bit, but quickly steadies himself and drops his gaze to the floor.

At Merlin's involuntary gasp, Jarl assures his potential buyer of Bear's ferocity. "This slave killed two of my men during his capture. He can meet your needs."

"_Only two_?" thinks Merlin. "Why, he looks so meek," he says.

Jarl says, "that's caused by the enchantment Malus cast. You can command him to fight as you need."

"What's his name?" Merlin asks.

"We call him 'Bear' because he's a fighter," Jarl snorts. "Do you want a demonstration?"

"No. How do I know he won't fight me?"

Malus answers, "the enchantment ensures that he will follow only your commands. If he resists the enchantment, it will cause him pain and disturbing visions from his own memories and nightmares. When it wears off, he may try to fight it, but you can control him and renew the spell."

"I suppose he'll do. How do I renew the spell?"

"Pay me first, then he will tell you," Jarl interjects.

"I will need a horse as well," Merlin says. "What is your price for both?"

Merlin buys Arthur and a horse, paying the full price Jarl asks with the gold he'd taken from Arthur's chambers. Jarl instructs the guards to have a saddled horse brought out to wait for Master Myrddin and Bear.

Malus tells Merlin that if the slave starts to resist the spell, all he need do is to tell him to 'keep still,' and the enchantment will be strengthened and calm him. Malus walks over to Arthur, touching the back of his head in his hands. His eyes glow a burnished orange as he says to him, "Master Myrddin is your master now, Bear. You will follow his commands." He turns to Merlin with an open gesture with his hand, "he's yours to control."

"Come here," Merlin orders in a firm voice, watching Arthur's reaction with disquiet.

Merlin stands and waits as Arthur turns toward him and walks over to face him. Arthur bows his head. "Yes, Master," he says, holding out his bound hands to Merlin.

Merlin takes control of Arthur by the rope that binds his hands. "Let's go," he says to Arthur, tugging on his bonds.

"Yes. Master," Arthur says, following obediently. "As you command."

Merlin leads him out of the room, his heart breaking that this monster has stolen Arthur's will and sold it so carelessly to a stranger.

xXx

"Morgana!" Agravaine shouts as he rushes down the stone steps between the overgrown trees to reach Morgana's hovel. He reaches the bottom and turns to his right to the steps leading to the door. He glances up at the cloudy sky, wondering if it was going to rain. The clouds were moving quickly across the sky, darkening as they thicken. The wind blows in from the north. He frowns at the thought of getting caught in a downpour.

Morgana opens the door just as he is about to knock. "You're late, Agravaine." She turns and heads back inside, leaving the door ajar for him to follow her into the house. He enters and closes the door behind him. She waves her hand to ignite a few additional candles. "Getting darker out there," she says. "Looks like more rain coming."

She sits in the armchair near the fire pit in her hovel, gesturing to Agravaine to sit on the chair nearby.

"Geoffrey and his entourage left a bit later than planned this morning," Agravaine says as he crosses the room to the chair Morgana had pointed to. "I delayed the trip as long as I could, but those two knights, Gwaine and Percival, were so eager to depart that they prepared everything in record time."

"They'll find out soon enough that they're on a futile quest." She smiles, leaning back in her chair. "That old fool Geoffrey will encumber their every attempt to search."

"Are you certain that all traces of Arthur's passage have been eliminated?" Agravaine asks.

"What I didn't erase, all the rain we've been having lately will have washed away." She crosses her arms and looks at him suspiciously. "Why, what else has happened?"

"Arthur's servant left a few days ago to look for him."

"What?" Morgana stands abruptly and starts to pace the width of the small room. "I thought we agreed to restrain the boy in Camelot? He's a troublemaker, Agravaine." She stops and waits for his response, glaring at him.

"He's an idiot." Agravaine waves his hand dismissively. "Though it is annoying that he took off to search – stole Arthur's horse, too."

"We need to stop him. He always has the most extraordinary luck."

"If Arthur is as lost as you say, he'll never find him. And besides, we're well rid of him." Agravaine reaches out to catch Morgana's hand and pull her back to her chair near him. "We will wait until Geoffrey's dispirited return from his failure at diplomacy and then bring you home to Camelot to take your rightful place. Camelot will welcome back her lost daughter."

She frees her hand from his grasp and sits again in her chair. "Remember your place, Agravaine; I will be Queen when Uther dies. You'll have your just reward only then."

xXx

Merlin leads an unresisting Arthur out of the keep to the fortress gate where he'd left Llamri tied up. The cobbles of the yard in front of the keep are puddled, but the air smells sweet from the cleansing of the rain that had just stopped. At his approach to the gate, a guard brings over the horse that Merlin had agreed to buy. He's a ragged specimen, but looks sturdy enough. He'll have to do. Merlin helps Arthur to mount Llamri and takes the other horse for himself. Arthur doesn't protest; he is subdued and passive, sitting astride his horse without recognizing her. Merlin holds Llamri's reins in his hand, along with the rope binding Arthur; he heads out through the gate and across the meadows fronting the stronghold.

Once out of sight of the fortress under the sheltering trees, Merlin halts the horses and dismounts. He unties Arthur's hands, but Arthur makes no attempt to take control of the horse himself. Merlin sighs, and mounts the new horse again. He continues to hold Llamri's reins in his hand, controlling his own horse and leading Llamri. He smiles when he sees Bluebeard fly in to perch on his shoulder for a moment to coo a greeting. Bluebeard soars away again, circling the two riders joyfully.

Merlin would have liked to gallop away from Jarl's stronghold, to put as much distance as quickly as possible from Arthur's enslavement. But he knows that Arthur would not be able to control his horse in his distracted condition. They travel slowly, and cover only ten leagues or so before it is too dark to continue. Merlin leads the horses from the road to find a hidden spot in the woods to make camp for the night. A short distance in he finds a quickly moving stream with a flat grassy bank between it and the surrounding trees.

He is grateful that the weather has remained fair since the rain stopped earlier because he has only his single bedroll and the one cloak for warmth during the night. He leads the horses to the edge of the trees, where he dismounts and ties them up. Untying his pack from Llamri's saddle, he tells Arthur to dismount and follow him. Arthur complies and they walk over to a fallen log near the stream. Merlin brings his pack and sets it near the log, taking out the food he had saved from his breakfast that morning at the inn. He retrieves his pocketknife from his boot, readying it to share the fruit and cheese between them.

"Let's collect some wood to make a fire," Merlin suggests.

"Yes, Master. I'll do it," Arthur says and walks deeper into the woods.

Merlin gathers some stones from the riverbank to make a small fire pit, and places kindling inside. He holds out his hand above it and a fire ignites. Arthur, returning with an armful of sticks and branches, sees the other man's magic and his eyes go wide in fear. He drops the sticks he carries and holds up his hands in a placating gesture, taking a few steps back.

Startled by the sound of the bundle of branches dropping, Merlin looks back and sees Arthur's face reflecting his fear. His heart clenches, as he thinks, "_oh no! Arthur has seen my magic. He cannot know who I am_," before he realizes that the man Arthur sees is not the Merlin he knows.

"I won't hurt you," he says quietly. "You need not fear me."

"You are a sorcerer, Master Myrddin," Arthur says fearfully, studying the face he sees – a middle-aged man looking back at him through sad blue eyes, with graying hair and beard. Arthur's recent experience with magic has taught him that magic causes pain. He knows that magic is evil. He is afraid.

"It'll be okay," Merlin assures him. "I'm trying to help you."

Arthur is rooted to the spot, eyes wide, afraid to move. He shakes his head from side to side. "No. Not again. Please. No."

Merlin sighs, and speaks in a tone of command. "Pick up the fire wood and bring it here."

Arthur obeys.

xXx

They travel in this manner, with Bluebeard gliding above and around them, to Balinor's cave at the foot of the Aora Mountain, stopping at a town on the way to secure some supplies and food with Arthur's gold pieces. They unsaddle and leave the two horses in a small open-fronted shed situated just at the edge of the clearing where the stream leading to the cave becomes wilder with rock ledges and boulders blocking the way. They proceed along the stream on foot, carrying the packs and supplies. When they get inside the cave, Merlin takes a scrap of parchment and a piece of charcoal he finds there, bringing it outside to the sunlight to write a note to Gaius, which he fastens to Bluebeard's leg. With a whispered word and a flash of gold, he sends the pigeon winging its way back to Camelot with the message, "_I have found him_."


	9. Chapter 9

The Sorcerer's Slave

Chapter 9

Bluebeard flies swiftly over field and forest from Balinor's cave at the foot of the Aora Mountain in Lot's Kingdom back to the city of Camelot, bearing the message from Merlin that he's been charged to deliver to Gaius. Borders and boundaries mean nothing to a bird in flight, and he soars and glides easily on the winds chasing the white clouds across the sky under a brilliant sun. He lands with a little hop on the windowsill in the Citadel that he knows well. The window is open to admit the day's sunshine and warm breeze. He lifts his wings and flaps easily into Gaius's chambers, seeing the relaxed body of the old man asleep in his chair near the cook-fire.

He lands on the sleeping man's chest, just above where his hands are clasped. Gaius senses the weight and raises a hand to bat it away, still asleep. Bluebeard squawks in indignation and flaps over to land on the old man's head, snatching a single white hair in his beak and yanking it. Gaius startles awake, flailing his hands above his head. The bird squawks again and flies over to the table, hopping and skittering on the worn wooden planks of the tabletop.

Gaius blinks the sleep from his eyes, and yawns, looking around in confusion. He rubs the top of his head, smoothing his hair over the spot where he'd felt the sharp tug. He stands quickly when he sees Bluebeard looking at him bobbing his head, a bright dot of gold in each of his eyes. "_Merlin_," Gaius thinks as he hastily navigates the few steps to reach the table. He unties the small rolled piece of parchment from Bluebeard's leg and reads the few words written there, "_I have found him." _Clutching the parchment with its scrawled message in charcoal in his hand, he turns his head and looks out the window into the distance, joy suffusing his face.

"Thank the gods," he breathes, knowing that Merlin will be bringing Arthur home.

xXx

Merlin and Arthur are in Balinor's cave, cleaning it and making it habitable again. It's been empty since Merlin's last sojourn in the cave after he had fled for his life from Camelot when he feared his secret would be revealed to Arthur or Uther by Sir Bors.* Bors had seen Merlin use magic to defend himself, and again in a skirmish with Bayard's men to protect Arthur after they had rescued Arthur from his captivity. He had confessed his destiny to Bors, and Bors has kept Merlin's secret since, leaving Camelot himself when he married.

In the cave again with Arthur, Merlin remembers well how Balinor had healed Arthur here once all those years ago when Merlin first met his father; he's brought Arthur back here to find a way to heal him again. The town of Enged is less than an hour's ride from the cave, so Merlin knows he'll be able to buy more supplies and food if they can't hunt or scavenge enough on their own. He has Arthur's gold coins and Merlin could always seek trades for his skills as a physician in his guise as Myrddin.

Arthur is quiet and obedient, carefully following Merlin's commands. But he is clearly not himself; he lacks his own will, his sense of self. He fears the sorcerer that he sees – the man with the long hair and grizzled beard. Arthur is dutifully sweeping the dirt from the floor of the cave, when Merlin, holding an empty bucket, calls to him to come over to where he is kneeling near the cook-fire.

"Arthur, would you come here, please?" Merlin says, wanting to ask him to fetch some water.

The other man doesn't respond, but continues to move the broom carefully across the floor of the cave in compliance with the task he had been given.

"Arthur?" Merlin repeats a bit louder; still no response. Merlin frowns, looking at Arthur with concern. He stands up and strides over to him, closing the distance in a few steps, and places his hand on Arthur's arm to get his attention. At the gesture, Arthur cringes from him.

"Master! I'm sorry. Don't hurt me." Arthur tries to make himself smaller to avoid the other's touch.

Merlin drops his hand. "Why didn't you respond?" he asks. "I called your name."

"My name is Bear, Master." Arthur says, averting his eyes from Merlin fearfully. "Just Bear."

"No!" Merlin shouts, dropping the bucket and seizing both of Arthur's arms. "Look at me," he says fiercely, eyes flashing gold. "Your name is Arthur Pendragon! You are Prince Arthur!"

"Yes, Master. As you will." Arthur lowers his head.

Merlin releases his arms and steps back, his face a mask of sorrow. He picks up the bucket and hands it to Arthur. "Please fetch some water, Arthur," he says quietly with a tone of command.

Arthur obeys.

xXx

Merlin easily treats the physical wounds from the abuse that Arthur endured, but it takes Merlin a while to realize the depth of Arthur's enchantment.

As the days pass, the enchantment weakens, and Arthur's memories begin to resurface in the form of nightmares. However, because of Malus's enchantment, these memories have become twisted and they torment Arthur. Merlin uses his own magic to try to ease Arthur's enchantment, but his spells aren't strong enough to lift it entirely because Merlin is weakened by the need to maintain his own aging spell to retain the visage of his middle-aged self.

Yet he never tells Arthur to 'keep still.' He does not wish to control him in that way or reinforce the hold that Malus's evil magic has over Arthur's will. He tries to reduce Arthur's enchantment, and restore Arthur's self, but each step causes Arthur physical pain, and emotional distress. The enchantment is a particularly cruel one, using the victim's own memories and regrets to torment him if he tries to resist. Arthur is hallucinating, yelling in his sleep, in pain, and lashing out.

Arthur doesn't know who Merlin is, as he doesn't recognize him. All he sees is that an older man keeping him a slave is a sorcerer, and thinks that he is causing the pain and visions, because he hears the spells Merlin casts, and sees his eyes glow gold. He fears the magic that he glimpses.

Merlin concocts a sleeping draft using the mushrooms he'd found in his pocket for the recipe in the little book. It helps to give Arthur a few hours rest, but night after night, Arthur screams out when his nightmares overwhelm him. He talks in his sleep, and Merlin shares his pain as he listens to Arthur's agony. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Arthur says again and again. It is only in his nightmares that Arthur remembers his past and Camelot.

Arthur dreams of his mother's sacrifice to bear a child that killed her as he was born. "It was my fault that you lost your life. If I hadn't been born, you would still be alive; you would still be Queen. Camelot would be better, father would be content," he mumbles in his sleep. "I'm sorry, so sorry. It was my fault. I killed you."

"Arthur, no." Merlin shakes Arthur awake, distraught at his words to his mother in his nightmare. He grasps Arthur's arms, his eyes golden as he says what words he can to reassure Arthur. "It was not your fault. You are not to blame."

Arthur responds to Merlin's voice, slowly waking from his dream, but still feeling the guilt and pain. "It is all my fault. I will never be good enough. My father is right."

Merlin sees the vulnerable, lonely child that Arthur must have been before he was forced to assume the burden of duty, to don the mask of strength and courage in the face of his every fear. He mourns that Arthur never learned to love himself, feeling the absence of a mother and implied rejection in his father's aloofness. He was alone, always alone, and put on himself the weight of personal failure.

Merlin tries to calm him and talk him down from his enchantment-induced panic, as Arthur cries out in his troubled sleep from the physical and emotional pain.

* * *

A/N: See "While Looking for Her" by Nantasyland for the back-story.


	10. Chapter 10

The Sorcerer's Slave

Chapter 10

Arthur dreams of Lancelot's sacrifice of his life on the Isle of the Blessed to heal the tear between the worlds. He dreams that Lancelot is asking him why he had to be sacrificed.

"I'm sorry, Lancelot. I let the best and noblest of us all die for me. I should have stopped you." He sits up crying in his sleep. Merlin shakes him to try to wake him.

"It was his choice, Arthur. Listen to me. He went willingly," Merlin says. Then after a pause, he adds, "you were, erm, incapacitated."

But Merlin's own thoughts turn to Lancelot's sacrifice, his own guilt that the knight took Merlin's place to enter the veil. Lancelot had heard what the dragon said when Merlin told him he planned to offer himself in Arthur's place. "You must not do this, Merlin," the dragon had growled at him late that night when Lancelot and Merlin made their way back to rejoin Arthur and the others. "_Lancelot did it for me. To save me_," Merlin thinks, the pain of his own loss still fresh for him as well.

Arthur looks at him in confusion, disbelieving, and Merlin adds, "I meant to take your place to save you and Camelot. It shouldn't have been you, nor Lancelot."

"It was my burden for my people, my duty. No one else should have died in my place," Arthur mumbles, still half-asleep. "It's my fault he's dead."

"No Arthur, you should never have tried to sacrifice yourself," Merlin cries to him. "You are too important to Camelot. I would have willingly given my life for yours. But Lancelot took the decision away from me. You are not to blame."

Arthur looks at the man who speaks to him as he emerges from the fog of pain of his dreams. He listens to his words and feels easier in his mind. But he doesn't see the man he knows as Merlin, despite Merlin's words of reassurance. He is so caught up in his own pain and confusion that he doesn't question why or who is talking to him. Even with the words meant to comfort, Arthur sees only the sorcerer who holds him a slave, and who he thinks is using magic causing him to experience all this pain and torment. His head hurts, and he rocks himself, holding his head in his hands.

Merlin stands up and rummages through his supplies in his medicine bag. "Here. Drink this; it will help you sleep again," Merlin says in a tone of command, handing the other a little bottle. Arthur empties the vial of the sleeping draught. He lies down again, and quickly falls into a dreamless sleep.

Merlin lies awake, his own thoughts in turmoil. Had he given too much away when he said he would have given his life for Arthur's? He was desperate to assure Arthur of his worth, his value, and alleviate his torment. But what would Arthur remember of Merlin's words spoken by a man he knew as a sorcerer? Would he remember the words and connect them to the man?

xXx

Sir Geoffrey of Monmouth and his entourage arrive back at Camelot in a disheartened straggle. Percival and Gwaine are grim-faced with anger as they pass through the gates into the courtyard. All their attempts to find and follow a trail that Arthur may have taken were thwarted by Geoffrey and his demands that they attend him constantly.

As expected, Geoffrey's visits with court officials in neighboring kingdoms yielded no information on Arthur's whereabouts. Although he was graciously welcomed, and offered sympathetic platitudes for Camelot's loss of her prince, no one could help.

A guard had run to the Citadel to inform the Lord Regent that Sir Geoffrey's party was sighted on the road approaching Camelot, so Agravaine, followed by members of the court, Gaius among them, was already descending the main staircase into the courtyard when Geoffrey and the knights ride up. A page runs up to them with mounting steps to facilitate Geoffrey's descent from his horse. Other pages wait to take the reins from the knights as they dismount.

"Sir Geoffrey," Agravaine says when he reaches the bottom of the stairs, "it's good to see you arrived safely back to Camelot."

"Lord Agravaine," Geoffrey says with a slight incline of his head to the regent. "I bear you greetings from neighboring kingdoms, as well as their regrets that they know nothing of Prince Arthur's fate. None have seen him, nor heard any news of where he may be found."

"That is indeed a tragedy, to learn that our crown prince will never be located." Agravaine's face is appropriately somber at this statement, while thinking exultantly, "_Morgana will be pleased. Our time has come. With Arthur finally gone, she will be Queen."_

Gaius, standing among the other courtiers, also presents a melancholy visage at Geoffrey's news. But he also exults inside, except his joy is for Arthur, knowing that he will soon be returning to Camelot to resume his rightful place. _"Bring him home safely, Merlin. And soon," _he prays silently to himself.

xXx

Night after night Arthur continues to be plagued by his pain and guilt at the deaths of so many that he felt he should have saved. His self-loathing over Lancelot has an added twist to his grief at his death – Guinevere's grief. She mourned Lancelot deeply, Arthur knew. She had told Arthur that she had made Lancelot promise to keep Arthur safe, and that he was true to his words. He did it for his love of Guinevere. But in his dreams, this recollection becomes twisted and vicious.

When Arthur sits up suddenly and cries out in his sleep about Guinevere and Lancelot, Merlin is awakened from his own troubled sleep. He scuttles over to Arthur's pallet, and tries to break him of his emotional turmoil. Arthur is crying, sitting up in his half-sleep, his arms wrapped around his body, rocking with the pain he feels. Lancelot's sacrifice is once again in his nightmares, but it is the hurt it caused Guinevere that torments him now.

"It's my fault Lancelot's dead. Guinevere will never forgive me, will never love me."

"She will, Arthur. She does," Merlin tells him, believing it.

Arthur shakes his head, his eyes squeezed shut, leaking tears. "No, no, no. She said he gave his life to protect me. She loved him and lost him because of me."

"She may have loved him once, but she loves you only."

"I don't deserve her love. I will never be good enough," Arthur sobs. "I have failed everyone."

Merlin takes hold of Arthur's shoulders, shakes him gently to capture his attention, and looks him in the eye with his own eyes flaring gold before they fade back to blue. "No, Arthur. You haven't failed anyone."

Arthur looks at the face of the older man with the greying beard and sad blue eyes, wanting to believe. He's not sure if he's awake or still dreaming, but he feels calmer. The older man helps him lie down again, and after Arthur soon falls back to sleep. Merlin sits quietly and looks at him, aching for his pain. He closes his eyes and whispers, half to himself, shaking his head, "you've never failed me."

xXx

As the days passed, Merlin reduces the hold the enchantment has on Arthur's mind. He is coming back to who he is. His behavior is no longer passive and quiet. But Arthur still suffers and hallucinates, thinking that the sorcerer is the source of his pain and confusion. As he gets stronger, Arthur reacts badly to what he thinks is an evil use of magic causing him pain.

One morning just as dawn was breaking, waking from another nightmare, Arthur lashes out. He is angry. In his nightmare, he relived the attack by the bandits who killed his fellow knights and sold him to Jarl. He experiences again the brutal treatment he endured at the hands of Jarl's guards and the loss of his self and his will to the first sorcerer. In his dream, in his memory, he saw himself being sold to the man now keeping him prisoner in the cave – another sorcerer.

"_I am a prince, not a slave."_ This thought consumes him. He sits up on his pallet, pulls on his boots silently, seeing the sorcerer asleep a short distance away, closer to the entrance of the cave.

With a strength born of suppressed rage and fear, he jumps to his feet and grabs Merlin's pocketknife that had been left on a small ledge near the cook-fire. He lunges across the cave to where Merlin is asleep on his pallet, and crouches over him, intending to stab the middle-aged sorcerer he sees sleeping there and kill him.

Merlin wakes, sensing Arthur's movement toward him, and, torn from a deep sleep, finds himself in a fight for his life with Arthur. Rolling over, he reaches out frantically and grabs Arthur's arm with the knife poised to stab him. He yanks Arthur off balance and Arthur falls sideways onto the floor of the cave, still clutching the knife.

Merlin dives after him, trying to wrest his pocketknife from Arthur's hand. They struggle, rolling on the floor of the cave in the dim light from the dying fire and dawning light at the cave's entrance, Merlin holding on to Arthur's forearm. Arthur breaks free, and pins Merlin to the floor of the cave, his left hand around his throat. Merlin twists and squirms, kicking out, trying to extricate himself, his eyes focused on the knife tightly clutched in Arthur's right hand.

As Arthur raises his arm to stab Merlin with the knife, Merlin wrenches his body to the side, shifting Arthur's weight. The knife strikes, slashing Merlin's shoulder. At the shock of the sudden pain, Merlin's magic reacts involuntarily to the attack and knocks the blade from Arthur's hand while shoving Arthur up and back, to slump against the wall of the cave.

Arthur is stunned, but unharmed; he levers himself up, panting in anger. Arthur shakes his head to clear it, and yells, "you are a sorcerer, Myrddin! Keep away from me! I am not your slave!" He turns and flees the cave.

Arthur runs outside to get a horse. Merlin staggers after him, his hand pressing into his bleeding shoulder, trying desperately to stop him from leaving before he is fully himself. As Arthur is mounting his horse without bothering to put a saddle on her, Merlin realizes he doesn't have the strength to prevent his departure. He moves to stand in front of the horse, and places his hands on either side of Llamri's head. His eyes flash gold, as he spells a silent command, "_take him safely home_."

When Arthur has gained his seat on the horse, he kicks out with his foot and hits Merlin in the eye with the toe of his boot. Arthur wheels the horse around; Merlin collapses. As he falls, Merlin loses control over the aging spell and returns to his own form. He watches Arthur gallop away, riding bareback, but Arthur does not look back. Just before Merlin loses consciousness, his last thought is: "_The horse knows the way, Arthur. Trust the horse_._ The horse knows the way._"


	11. Chapter 11

The Sorcerer's Slave

Chapter 11

Merlin makes it back to Camelot two days later, riding the horse that he had purchased from Jarl, using Llamri's saddle. He goes directly to the stables where he dismounts, wincing from the pain from his injured shoulder, and removes his packs and bedroll from the horse. Tyr comes out to see who it is.

"Merlin!" Tyr exclaims. "You made it back. I was worried when Prince Arthur came home with the patrol riding Llamri."

Merlin closes his eyes in relief: Arthur was home and safe. "Yeah, Arthur took his own horse, and left me this one."

"That's funny. He didn't mention that you were with him."

"Oh. Well then. Best we don't mention it either, yeah?"

"Sure," Tyr agrees, puzzled. He adds with a smile, "I'm glad you're home."

Merlin leads his horse into the barn to tend while Tyr chatters on about doings in Camelot, happily telling Merlin that his father is doing much better with the ointment that Gaius had concocted and resting easy with the sleeping draught that Merlin had prepared.

xXx

After helping Tyr in the stables, Merlin crosses the courtyard to Gaius's chambers. When he enters the room, laden with his pack and bags, Gaius looks up from his workbench and gasps. He had been concerned about Merlin when Arthur returned on his own the day before with the Camelot patrol, riding the horse that Merlin had taken from the stables. Arthur had not mentioned Merlin when he spoke about his ordeal.

He rushes over and hugs Merlin in relief that he made it home safely. He releases Merlin, looks at Merlin's torn and bloody tunic under his jacket and reaches out to touch the cheek bone under Merlin's left eye, which has developed a swollen, angry purple bruise.

"What happened, Merlin?"

Merlin reaches up to swat Gaius's hand away. "That's nothing. Don't worry about it."

"Sit down. Take off your bloody shirt, Merlin. I can tell you're injured," Gaius says. Gaius fills a basis with water as Merlin complies. Gaius points to the basin he places on the table near the cook-fire. "Warm it, please."

Merlin glances at the water and it heats up. Gaius dips a cloth and starts to clean the wound in Merlin's shoulder. Merlin winces at the sting, but he is more concerned about Arthur. "What of Arthur? I know he made it back, but how is he?"

Gaius says gently as he works, "Arthur has healed physically, but he was troubled by bad dreams last night. What happened?" He looks up from his attention to Merlin's arm. "I got your message with the bird. Where did you find him?"

"He was captured and made a slave, Gaius." Merlin leans forward with his elbows on his knees, hands clasped, shaking his head in sorrow.

"Hold still a moment." Gaius applies a healing ointment and wraps a bandage around Merlin's upper arm and shoulder. "Who took him and why?"

"I don't know. When I found him a slave trader named Jarl was holding him for sale. But Malus, that angry sorcerer I met before, was there with Jarl." Merlin takes a deep breath. "He enchanted Arthur, to control him. They broke him. And then they sold him to me. They didn't know who I was, in my disguise as an older man." Merlin pauses again, and shudders looking at Gaius, his eyes filled with pain. "I bought him as a slave, Gaius."

"Merlin, you saved him." Gaius reaches out and pats the younger man's twined fingers in reassurance and understanding.

"I bought a slave. I bought Arthur." Merlin lowers his head in shame. "It was the only way I could get him away. His will was gone. He wouldn't resist; he couldn't fight it."

"Merlin, you did the right thing."

Merlin looks up, hopeful at Gaius's words. He continues, "I took him to Balinor's cave. I tried to bring him back, but could do it only in stages. It was working, slowly, but the enchantment was strong. He was in physical pain, and he had visions, troubling visions. He suffered from them, and would call out to his father, his mother, Lancelot. He kept saying 'I'm sorry. I'm sorry.' He was in such pain! I could hardly bear to watch it."

Merlin rubs his face with his hands, shakes his head. "He ran away before he was completely himself – some instinct pushed him to overcome his pain and to attack what he saw as a threat. He saw only a middle-aged man he thought was another evil sorcerer." He takes a shuddery deep breath. "But it was me. He ran away from me."

"Yes, but you saved him and he made it home safely. He was found riding bareback on Llamri by a Camelot patrol. He was in a bit of a daze and uncertain how he got there. But he knew who he was."

"Is the enchantment gone? How can I help him heal, Gaius?"

"I don't know, Merlin. I just don't know," Gaius admits. "Only time will tell if he can be completely healed."

"I must go to him." Merlin jumps up from his chair and runs up to his bedroom for a clean shirt. He grabs his jacket and heads for the door at a run intent on getting to Arthur.

As he enters the courtyard, he sees Agravaine coming down the grand staircase. Agravaine spots him, and calls out angrily. "Merlin! Come over here. Where are you going?"

Merlin nears Agravaine at the base of the staircase. "I must see Arthur." Merlin continuers walking past Agravaine, who reaches out and grabs Merlin firmly by his good arm, stopping him from climbing the stairs. "Let go."

Merlin tries to wrest his arm from Agravaine's grip, but the older man only tightens it more firmly, shoving him against the pedestal to King Bruta's statue. Arthur's safe return has infuriated Agravaine. Somehow he knew it was all Merlin's fault, even though Arthur hadn't mentioned Merlin finding him. They were close, so close to Morgana's own return as Camelot's prodigal daughter to claim her throne when Uther died. All these hopes were shattered when Arthur rode up to the Citadel with the patrol mounted on Llamri – the horse that Merlin had stolen from the stables.

Agravaine's fury and dislike of Merlin fuel his words and actions and he again shoves Merlin roughly against the pedestal. "No. You cannot see him unless he summons you."

"But . . , " Merlin starts to explain, "I'm his servant. He'll be expecting me."

Agravaine shouts for the guards, then snarls at Merlin, "you left Camelot when you were ordered to remain. Arthur will decide your punishment."

"No, wait. I'm not a slave; I should be free to go when I want. Let me talk to him. I can explain," Merlin pleads.

"Too late for that." Agravaine shoves him again hard against the pedestal. "And there's a little matter of stealing the prince's horse."

"She was returned."

"Yes. But not by you. Arthur brought her back." Agravaine summons the guards to approach them with a motion of his free hand. "Horse theft is a serious crime, Merlin. You should be flogged for this."

"No! Please!" Merlin tries again to get free of Agravaine's grip, to climb the steps to go to Arthur's rooms, but he is held fast. "Lord Agravaine, you don't understand. I left Camelot to look for Arthur! I didn't run away."

"Take Merlin to the cells," Agravaine says coolly to the guards, giving Merlin a hard shove in their direction.


	12. Chapter 12

The Sorcerer's Slave

Chapter 12

Arthur sits, leaning forward, in the armchair across from his father. The chairs are placed in front of the open window in Uther's chambers so that Uther can gaze outside should he wish to. Arthur reaches out to take his father's hand.

"Father, I am sorry," he says quietly. "I haven't been able to come see you. I've been . . . away."

He studies his father's face for any sign of recognition or responsiveness. Uther sits impassive, with his face turned toward the light and warmth of the window, eyes closed. His hand is limp in Arthur's. Arthur releases his father's hand and his shoulders slump in sorrow to see his strong and powerful father reduced to this shell of a man.

Arthur still has difficulty accepting Morgana's betrayal of the family that took her in as a small child and gave her a home. He cared for her. They all did. But the secret that his father kept all these years – of who Morgana really was – destroyed them all. She was bitter that he never acknowledged her, and Uther was blind to the pain he caused. With her attack on Camelot allied with Morgause, Morgana had declared herself an enemy of the Kingdom. Arthur fears that one day he may have to face a final showdown with his sister to protect the Kingdom he hopes to build. He sighs heavily. "Father, I'm sorry she brought you to this," he says softly, shaking his head. Uther doesn't respond.

Arthur looks over to Gwen, who is busy on the other side of the bedchamber with straightening the bedcovers. She looks over and smiles encouragingly at Arthur. He smiles back and nods.

"Has he spoken at all?" Arthur asks her and Gaius. Gwen shakes her head negatively.

Gaius, standing behind Arthur, puts a hand on Arthur's shoulder. "There's been little change." Gaius steps around Arthur's chair to put a cup of water and a vial of medicine on the small table in front of Uther. "See if you can get him to drink this," he says to Arthur.

Arthur nods in acknowledgement, and picks up the vial. He reaches out and takes his father's hand again and places the vial in his palm. Uther's attention is drawn to his hand by Arthur's touch. "Father, here. Drink this. It will help you."

Arthur guides Uther's hand to his mouth and helps him tip it up to drink. Uther swallows the medicine, and Arthur hands him the water goblet. He looks at it puzzled. "It's water, Father, to wash down the taste." Arthur mimes lifting it to his mouth, and his father copies the gesture, drinking the water. Gaius smiles at them and turns to leave the room just as Agravaine knocks and enters.

"Gaius," Arthur calls out suddenly to the old man walking toward the door. "Where's Merlin?"

Gaius pauses mid-stride and turns back to face Arthur, his smile gone. "I assumed he was with you, Sire. He left my chambers yesterday to go see you."

"I haven't seen him since before I left for my trip to the Northern Borders," Arthur says.

Gaius shakes his head, uneasy. "I don't know where he is, Sire."

Arthur looks over to Guinevere, who also shakes her head negatively. "I didn't even know he was back," she says, glancing at Gaius.

"Back?" Arthur asks, glancing from one to the other. "From where?" He notices Agravaine, who is walking toward the pair by the window. "Uncle, have you seen him?"

Agravaine clears his throat before he speaks. "He's in the cells."

"What on earth is he doing there?" Arthur is surprised.

"Waiting for your judgment and punishment," Agravaine explains.

"What?" Arthur is puzzled. "My judgment? Punishment? What did he do?"

"He stole your horse and ran away from Camelot after you had commanded him to remain here."

Arthur stands abruptly. "He's not a slave. He should be able to come and go freely. Release him and send him to my chambers."

"Yes, Arthur," Agravaine grits out, mouth tight. He stalks angrily out of the room, calling for the guard.

xXx

As soon as he's released from the cells, Merlin makes his way to Arthur's chambers, entering without knocking. When he spies Arthur seated in his chair at table near the fireplace, studying some documents, he exclaims with a grin, "Ha! I've found you!"

"Yeah, right here in my own rooms, where you didn't knock." Arthur retorts, looking up from his work.

Merlin shrugs. "Well, the door was sort of open."

Arthur shakes his head. "Merlin, where have you been? Agravaine said you ran away from Camelot."

"I went looking for you, you clotpole." Merlin grins broadly, relieved that Arthur is safe and well.

"You really are a complete idiot." He laughs. "The knights found me on the road to Camelot after I escaped." He looks at Merlin, noticing the purpling bruise on his cheekbone. "What happened to your eye?"

"I got kicked in the face by an ass." He pauses, coming forward into the room to face Arthur across the table. "How are you feeling? What do you remember?"

Arthur gestures to a chair, to tell Merlin to sit. Looking down at the table, spreading his hands flat, Arthur collects his thoughts. He raises his eyes to Merlin now sitting across from him.

"I remember being a prisoner, but it's all very confusing. Gaius says that I was drugged or possibly enchanted, though I think it's wearing off."

"Drugged? Enchanted? What happened?"

"I'm not exactly sure. It's mostly fragments of memories, visions. I'm not sure what was real, and what I imagined. Having found no disturbances in the Norther Borders, we were heading for home. We were attacked;my men were killed. I was captured. I remember a dungeon and men hitting me. It was cold." He shivers again at the memory. "Do you remember Jarl? The slave trader?" At Merlin's nod, Arthur continues. "I was held in his stronghold, i think. There was a sorcerer who kept coming into my cell. He would mumble words, and I would feel the most unimaginable pain until I passed out. I don't remember much else from there."

"Oh, Arthur," Merlin says softly. "Do you remember how you got away?"

"I was taken away by another sorcerer named Myrddin. He bought me from Jarl, and made me his slave." Arthur pauses. "This whole experience is proof that magic is pure evil. One sorcerer bound me in his spell so that I lose my will. And another kept me in a cave and gave me potions. They both used magic to keep me prisoner."

"Well, maybe the one who took you from the slave trader meant to help you. His potions may have been meant to heal," Merlin says, offering a better interpretation of the events, although he senses that Arthur isn't ready to find any goodness in a sorcerer.

"I was a slave!" Arthur retorts heatedly. "The sorcerer who bought me hurt me and caused me to have visions."

"What kind of visions? What did you see?" Merlin remembers the pain that Arthur endured as Malus's enchantment wore off, and hopes that he's recovered from the worst of it.

"I saw my mother, Lancelot. They were blaming me for their deaths – killed by magic because of me. I wasn't able to save them." Arthur's face reflects the pain of the guilt and grief he felt when he thought of their deaths. Merlin's heart aches for him and the burden that Arthur takes upon himself for every misfortune that befalls those he loves. He's also very much aware that Arthur is still blaming magic.

Then Arthur pulls himself together and blurts out, "Very curious thing, though. For a while there, I thought this Myrddin was the Dragonlord."

"The Dragonlord?"

"Yeah. You remember when the Great Dragon almost destroyed Camelot a couple of years ago? We went looking for him. What was his name?"

"Balinor. It was Balinor," Merlin says, his throat tight.

"Yeah, that's right. Balinor. Well, he looked like him, anyway." Arthur pauses for a moment, pointing his finger at Merlin. "The man was definitely a sorcerer, though. I saw his magic. But I escaped from him. I think I stabbed him."

"I'm glad you made it home safely, Sire," Merlin says softly.

"Yeah, me too." Arthur laughs, "and another funny thing, Merlin."

"Yeah?"

"I even thought I heard your whiny voice in my ear."

Merlin looks startled, his thought only, "_oh, no! What does he remember?"_ but he manages to chuckle along with Arthur. "And what did my whiny voice say?"

"Trust the horse. The horse knows the way."

END


	13. Chapter 13

The Sorcerer's Slave

Epilogue

The remains of a meal are scattered on the large table in Arthur's chambers. Arthur, Leon and Agravaine have just finished a quiet supper while discussing strategies to address the incursions and raids coming from Camelot's western neighbor, the Kingdom of Carleon. Arthur has been King for just a few months since the death of his father, and Agravaine continues to advise him on what he needs to do to be a strong and respected King like Uther had been.

"These are not just border attacks, Arthur," Agravaine is saying. "These raids are taking place deep within our Kingdom."

Merlin is clearing away the plates as Arthur leans back in his chair to look back at the desk in his bedchamber area. "Merlin, bring over the map of Camelot," he orders.

Merlin retrieves the map and sets it on the table in front of the three men sitting there. He hovers in the background, puttering around, but mostly listening to the discussion.

"You have to show your strength," Agravaine continues, taking a sip of wine from his goblet. "You must make it clear that you will respond robustly to such invasions."

Arthur indicates a location on the map. "This is where they were spotted most recently, Leon?"

"Yes, Sire," Leon answers, standing so he can better see where Arthur is pointing. "In the hills due west of the city, some twenty leagues in from the border with Carleon."

"Well then, it's settled. Leon, your plan is a clever one. We'll lure the raiders into this ravine, using Merlin here as bait. He can run fast when he wants to; I've seen him." Arthur moves his finger on the map to indicate a specific pass in the forested foothills of the mountain range. Agravaine and Leon nod in agreement. Having Merlin lure Carleon and his men into a trap will help keep their number of knights up to full strength for the fight.

"Merlin, stop whining," Arthur says, glancing around at his servant.

"I'm not whining. I haven't said anything."

"I can hear your whiny voice in my head again." Merlin looks startled, but Arthur is smiling.

"Okay, so what is my whiny voice saying this time, Sire?"

"That you don't want to run in chainmail," Arthur snickers and looks at Leon, who chuckles with him.

"I'm not a soldier. I wore chainmail once. You remember? That time in Ealdor?" Merlin whines. "It was hot, heavy, and uncomfortable."

Leon laughs aloud. "Welcome to our world, Merlin."

Merlin huffs, as he resumes clearing the table. When Merlin nears the door, Arthur calls out to him. "Find Sir Geoffrey of Monmouth and ask him to attend me."

"Now?"

"Yes, Merlin. Now." Merlin leaves the room, carrying the tray with the dirty plates.

"All right, gentlemen. I think we a plan," Arthur says. "Have Gwaine, Percival and a group of select knights ready to leave at first light, Leon." Leon bows his acknowledgment of the command and leaves the room.

"Uncle, would you like to come as well?" Arthur gestures to the map in invitation to Agravaine.

"Yes, Arthur," Agravaine answers. "I think in these early days of your reign, it's important to show that you have support of your family and allies."

"My father had many lords as allies. I hope they'll be mine."

Agravaine stands when Arthur rises from his chair. "Yes, indeed. Goodnight, Arthur," he says as he takes a step toward the door. "I will be ready to depart with you tomorrow."

The door opens as he reaches it, admitting Merlin and Geoffrey, who is holding a sheaf of papers. "Here we are," Merlin says cheerily, nodding curtly to Agravaine as he takes his leave.

"Merlin, shouldn't you have knocked first?" Geoffrey asks. Arthur gives a snort in amusement.

Arthur gestures to Geoffrey to sit at the table. Merlin rolls up the map and offers Geoffrey a goblet of wine. Arthur holds up his for a refill, nodding his thanks to Merlin as he pours. Merlin steps away and bustles about the room, readying Arthur's pack for the morning.

"You have the documents for my signature?" Arthur asks. "Merlin, bring over my quill and inkwell."

"Here they are, my Lord." Geoffrey slides the pile in front of Arthur, who picks up the top one to read. Merlin deposits the inkwell with a quill inside next to the papers to Arthur's left. Arthur sighs, and moves it to his right side. He takes the quill and signs the first, passing it back to Geoffrey.

"What responses have we had so far to our first set of letters informing my father's lords of my ascension to the throne?"

"A few. Lord Ector wrote that he and his son, Sir Cai, will attend you in a week's time to swear their allegiance. They'll be the first to do so."

"Excellent. I look forward to seeing them again." Arthur nods smiling at the news, and signs his name to the rest of the documents, passing each to Geoffrey as he signs. Geoffrey rises from his chair, and moves to the door to make his exit with a bow.

Arthur drops the quill on the table, looking around for his servant. Seeing him turning down the bed, he says. "Is everything ready for the trip tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Your pack is near the door. Ready to go."

"Good," Arthur says with surprise in his voice.

"Anything else, Sire?" Merlin stands near the back door.

"You can go." Arthur waves dismissively. "Oh, wait. Merlin, be sure to stop at the armory tonight for a set of chainmail and a cloak. Don't forget the cloak. You are going to need it." Arthur says. "And stop whining."

* * *

A/N: A new adventure starts in "His Servant's Keeper," by Nantasyland.


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